


Death of the Fake Ferret

by Surnia_Ulula



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Rosa Diaz, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pre-Canon, Rosa Diaz Has Feelings (Brooklyn Nine-Nine)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27530653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Surnia_Ulula/pseuds/Surnia_Ulula
Summary: Darkness. When I woke up, I was afraid. I hated it. I hated it so much. My worn leather jacket was tossed to the side. My hair was a ratted mess. I felt sick. As my body slowly began to reclaim itself, I turned onto my side and vomited. My whole body ached. The world around me was blurry. Unfortunately, I knew exactly where I was. I was on Baltic street, in between Bond and Nevins. I felt a small tear burn my cheeks. I shook myself off, hardening myself up again.It’s my fault. I should’ve known better. Been better. I screamed at myself on the inside. On the outside, I kept myself so still you’d think I was dead. As I slowly sat up, I dragged the jacket over to me. Although I had no memory of what happened, my body was sore in places I wish I could cut up and burn.
Relationships: Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn Nine-Nine) & Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A work in progress. I will probably do a lot of editing to all the chapters I post.

Chapter 1

The bar was warm, I felt the whiskey burn its way down my throat. As I basked in its artificial warmth, I felt shadows appear behind me. I didn’t turn, the bar was full. The lights danced around me, my headspace melted into a numb goo as the music and chatter drowned out the world. My thick black hair fell in my face, its messy waves brushing against the bar counter. My head began to ache a bit. Suddenly, the music was a bit too loud. The silver haired woman next to me’s laughter was a bit too sharp.  
The air seemed thick. I hadn't noticed the arm that wrapped itself around me. I frowned, confused and aching. When I tried to lurch back and hit them, My body tensed up, twitching a bit. I couldn’t move. I began to panic a bit as I realized what was happening.  
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.  
My body screamed as my mind began to fade. I knew I had been drugged. My body wouldn’t let me move to my own will.  
As black began to seep into my vision, I felt a hot breath on my ear.

Darkness. When I woke up, I was afraid. I hated it. I hated it so much. My worn leather jacket was tossed to the side. My hair was a ratted mess. I felt sick. As my body slowly began to reclaim itself, I turned onto my side and vomited. My whole body ached. The world around me was blurry. Unfortunately, I knew exactly where I was. I was on Baltic street, in between Bond and Nevins. I felt a small tear burn my cheeks. I shook myself off, hardening myself up again.  
It’s my fault. I should’ve known better. Been better. I screamed at myself on the inside. On the outside, I kept myself so still you’d think I was dead. As I slowly sat up, I dragged the jacket over to me. Although I had no memory of what happened, my body was sore in places I wish I could cut up and burn. I checked my jacket pockets.  
I still had my phone. Only the money in my wallet had been stolen. As my body began to gain feeling, I noticed my eyebrow was slick with blood. How I got that cut, I had no clue. I wiped the blood off on my sleeve. I slipped my jacket on. I stood up, knowing exactly how I looked. I checked the time, It was already halfway through my work day. I slumped over. I refused to move, however badly I had to pee. I saw a cop car pass. I held my head down, but it was too late. The car slowed down, then backed up.

“Rosa?!” Amy Santiago parked the car and got out.

“Hey Amy,” I leaned against the wall cooly, my eyes sparking with a wintry cool fire. I was determined to remain calm.

“Are you okay?!” Amy held out her hand. I smacked it away.

“Come on in,” she got in the driver's seat. I got in the car, shutting the heavy door. As I sat down, I winced as pain shot through my lower body. Amy looked at me in great concern  
as I cursed softly through my teeth.

“Rosa, what happened,” Amy turned the car off.

“Let’s go,” Tilting my head to the right, I leaned against my seatbelt.

“Rosa,” her voice was concerned.

“I said lets go,” my voice cracked as I hissed, and I hated myself for it. I refused to look her in her face. The car hummed with life as Amy pulled onto the empty street. We sat in the dark car together as Amy drove.

“Can I drop you off at home?” She said softly.

“No,” my voice was cold. She didn't respond.

As the hour ticked by, we were both silent.

“Leave me here,” I unbuckled my black seatbelt as the car moved. “I need to get something from the pet store.”  
Amy stopped the car.

“You have a pet? I didn’t know that,” Amy was trying to get me talking, I could tell.

“I hate small talk,” I shrugged Amy’s questions off like a duck would shake water off her back.

“Rosa, you know if you ever need anything, it’s okay to ask for help,” Amy touched my shoulder. I felt the pressure through the soft leather jacket I wore. I jerked to the side, out of her grasp. As I hurriedly pushed the metal door open, my nails scratched the faux leather inside the car. The world seemed to move in slow motion as I stepped out and closed the door. The cool metal slid by my fingers, my index finger rubbing a little scratch in the otherwise pristine looking vehicle. 

“Thanks,” I murmured. Amy gave me a worried glance. I turned my back to her. I stood there and listened to her drive away, making sure she was out of sight before walking over to my apartment’s entrance.

As I turned on the scalding water, I exhaled. I cast my dark eyes down at the cracked white tiles. My nails ran through the hard, thin strips of cement that held them together. My cracked fingernails scrubbed my whole body with soap until it was raw and blotchy. When I got out and grabbed a fresh pair of clothes from my wooden dresser, I cursed myself. I hate emotions. Wrestling with a sports bra over my head, I struggled to pull it down. My hair fell to the side as I slid a black t-shirt over my head. I grabbed some stretchy camo jeans from my bottom drawer and slipped those on as well. To my right, on a wall full of hooks, hung my leather jackets. Grabbing the softest one and flopping onto my bed, I hugged it. The ceiling was rough, a maze of little globs of plaster and paint. My habit of tracing the little imperfections with my eyes before I slept kicked in.  
My phone had been plugged in before I jumped in the shower. It was fully charged now. A small pair of white headphones were hidden inside my dresser. When I pulled them out and slid them into my ears. I closed my eyes. As all thoughts and feelings were blacked out by . My jacket smelled of faded perfume, Black Opium.

When I woke, my phone was unplugged. I turned over to look at the dead light emanating from the small alarm clock by my bed.  
4:51am  
I rolled over and stared at my rough yellow ceiling. I wasn’t going to fall back asleep, I knew that much. I got out of bed. Stepping heavily, I felt the floorboards beneath me groan. When I opened my bedroom door, I looked out my small kitchen window. The streets were empty and dark. I walked over and shut the blinds. I grabbed the kettle from the small stove and filled it with water. As I set it down and turned on the stove, I sighed. My eyes moved about lazily, probing the shadows, willing the demons to come forward and fall on their own sword. If only it were that easy.

The kettle pulled me out of my thoughts as it began to whine. I turned off the stove before the neighbors could hear it. 

I watched the steam rise as I poured the hot water into my favorite black mug. I filled it a little more than halfway. I watched the clear, shadowed liquid twirl as I pulled the cup off of the small circular wooden table. I opened my small fridge. The light emanating from the cold white block before me caught me off guard. Ketchup. Ketchup and milk.  
Really?! I hissed between my teeth. I grabbed the milk and poured it in the glass, mixing it with water. I reached into the small cabinets above the stove and grabbed a dusty box of tea bags. It was minty and vanilla flavored. It always helped calm me down. That and soft, sad music. I’d never let anybody know that, of course. I pressed the metal spoon against the tea bag, trapping it against the edge of the cup. I watched the white liquid turn brown, the tea dying the water quickly. I couldn’t feel my face move. I was frozen. I shook myself off as a chill ran down my spine. I reached to my left, my back to the stove. I grabbed the honey from the countertop and squeezed a massive glob into the tea. I brought my cup over to the table and plopped onto the couch. I held the tea close to my chest, not knowing what tomorrow would look like.  
Well, today, I grimaced as the small, glowing clock caught my eye. It was 5:15am. I sat there holding my tea, watching the sunlight slowly creep up the closed blinds. I took a sip. It was lukewarm, closer to cold when I had finally finished it.  
Baby steps Rosa, baby steps. I tried to comfort myself. You’re fine.

I shook myself off. Placing the cup into the sink already crowded with dirty dishes from the past week, I walked back into my bedroom. Pulling the black shirt off, I pulled a red one over my head. I clumsily slipped my legs into a pair of black jeans, tucking my shirt in. I fumbled with my belt, slipping it through the right holes. I looked at the jacket laying on my bed. The soft one, the one that smelled lovely. I grabbed it, passing my arms gently through the comfy sleeves. I instantly felt a bit better, a bit more secure beneath the leather. It was much thinner than most of my jackets, but it always kept me cozy. I let the warmth from the cloth seep into my bones. I sighed as I grabbed my keys and flipped the lock on the door. Slipping my keys into the zipper pocket in my black socks, I grimaced. I folded them into my black boots. When I walked out of my building, I felt the cool fog hit me. It was surely fading, however slowly. The day would be a perfect one. It made me a bit sick. I walked down the street and into the subway, passing a heavily graffitied open phone booth that smells heavily of old piss and mustard. However pungent it was, everything seemed dim. I wasn’t myself, but I had to push through.

When I was settled into my desk at work, I stared at the blank, shiny black computer before me. The day had gone by slowly. It wasn’t very busy today. I was left alone for the most  
part. Boyle approached me once. Before he could say anything, however, I twirled a pen in my fingers and said “No,” as firmly as possible. He stammered a bit. I stopped fiddling with my blue pen and stared at the department's carpeted floor. He seemed to sense something was wrong as he ducked his head and quickly shuffled away.

“Diaz,” Captain Mcgintley called for me from his office. I waited a moment before getting up and walking over to his open door. I closed it behind me, the blinds clinking against the thick glass.

“Yes captain,” I stood before him as he leaned back in his chair. All that separated us was a dark wooden desk.

“Santiago said she found you curled in a fetus position on Baltic street near the axe throwing range yesterday,” his voice was monotone, bored.

“Sit, Diaz,” I stared at the empty seat I was leaning on. I wasn’t even conscious of doing it, my hands were just wrapped around the back of the chair, knuckles bone white from  
gripping it so hard. I relaxed my arms, swinging myself into the chair. Why did I feel like I was in detention?

“Diaz,” He didn’t look at me.

“I’m required to ask you why you were curled in a fetus position on Baltic street near the axe throwing range yesterday.”  
I didn’t look him in the eye and shrugged.

“Uhh. okay,” he jotted something down on a piece of paper. I peered over his stomach. It was a doodle of what looked like a shark eating asparagus. I rolled my eyes.  
As I stood there in his office, I looked out the window. A small, dead fly lay on the windowsill. I watched it’s little iridescent wings hum with the beat of the artificial air that coursed through Captain Mcginleys office. It’s body was completely still. I stared into the flies dead eyes and felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time. A tear formed at the base of my own. They were the same color, my eyes and the flies. I hated myself for the small show of weakness, quickly swiping it away with a pathetic gesture.

“Alright Diaz, you’re good to go I guess,” he shuffled through some paperwork.

“Cool,” I murmured, getting out of the chair with a bit too much sarcastic enthusiasm. As I walked out, I felt the eyes of my coworkers on me. I ignored them, retreating to the women's room. In the bathroom, I checked my phone.  
Fuck. Jamica. I had twelve missed calls and over fifty texts from my girlfriend. I opened my messages. I sat there staring at the phones dark light.  
R: Hey I pressed send. I wanted to kick myself. I watched as the little thought bubble appeared under my text.

J: Are you okay? 

Was her response.

R: I’m at work

I waited for about five minutes before I got a response.

J: You didn’t answer my question. What the fuck have you been doing. Where were you. I was scared.

I stared at the screen for a bit.  
R: Idk.  
I felt a bit queasy.  
J: I’m coming over tonight.

I smiled, choking back tears. I loved her, and I didn’t know what to say.

It was dark outside, the cement outside slick with dark water. It was foggy, cold for summer. Suspiciously cold. It was the coldest summer in forever, it seemed. Maybe it was just me. Maybe it wasn’t. I couldn’t tell. As I marched over to the subway, keeping my head low.  
The subway car's lights flickered as the train made a sharp turn. I watched as another train passed, going in the opposite direction. The rhythm the car swayed in made me woozy. I closed my eyes, hyper aware of my long lashes brushing up against my lower lid. I sat there feeling the car humming, clicking over the tracks like lightning. Other than a man asleep in the far corner, I was alone. I sat there in silence, listening for the woman to call my stop. When she did, I stood up and walked onto the platform, hopping over the small gap between the train and yellow dotted line that marked the platforms edge.

“Hello Mrs, Jane,” my neighbors ten year old child was sitting outside her door. I never gave my neighbors my real name. I nodded to her.

“Sup kid,” I fiddled with my keys. I stopped as I heard a crash and a yell coming from her apartment. However amused I may have been, I couldn’t help but notice the child wince.

“Rough night?” I frowned in concern, leaning against the shadowed off white wall. The kid nodded. I thought for a moment.

“My name’s not Jane, It’s Rosa. Don’t tell anybody, you know how it is,” the kid looked a bit confused, but nodded.

“You ever need anything, idk, cookies? Do you drink?” The kid shrugged in response, unfolding their arms.

“Just drop by if you need anything, they won’t notice,” I gestured towards her door.

“Do you like my shirt?” The kid asked. She unzipped her red sweatshirt, there was a dragon on it.

“Yeah, it’s dope,” I grinned like a cheshire cat. The kid beamed.

“See you later kid,” I opened my door with a kick.

“Bye,” the kid whispered.

As I closed the door behind me, I plopped down on my gray couch. I curled on my side and fell asleep.

I woke to someone pounding on the door. I didn’t move.  
“I know you’re there. Charlie told me,” Damn, that's what the kids name was. I got up and opened the door, letting Jamica slip by before I locked it again.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” she turned to me sharply. I didn’t answer, my face a stony mask of cool indifference. I looked down, crossing my arms.

“Rosa, I was scared,” she pulled me into her side. I tightened up, my muscles freezing. I panicked internally as she hugged me. Small salty tears dripped down my cheeks as I stood there dead eyed.

Jamica stayed the night. In the bathroom alone, I shuffled through the medicine cabinets. With the tip of the nozzle against my lips, I took one massive gulp of Nyquil. I gagged at the harsh taste, fighting the urge to vomit it back up. When I shuffled back into the bed, Jamica was already asleep. I lay next to her, stiff as a board. The urge to burn off my tear ducts was strong. Instead of turning over and sleeping, I got out of bed and pressed my feet onto the silent floorboards. The kitchen was dark, outside I could see the shadows of the stray stranger hurrying by. The night was a deep black and blue, like a beautiful, perfect bruise. The plants along the window of my fire escape whispered in the wind of the window I had opened. I poured myself a shot of whiskey in the kitchen. I walked to the edge of the window, swinging my legs outside. Taking the shot onto the fire escape, I sat down on the edge, letting my legs swing down. 

I slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out my knife. It was warm, my body had kept it safe. The metal was silver. One hand held the knife, the other picked at the black paint on the warped, rusting fire escape. I downed my drink quickly. My eyes traced the edge of the blade. It was long and sharp, the blade was double sided. It was heavy. I loved this knife. It was my only surviving throwing knife from when I first learned how to throw. I broke all the others. I put my finger on the top of the dagger, a small bead of blood dripped down my finger. I winced. I hadn't meant to do that. It was still as sharp as it was when I first bought it. It was beaten up, but I thought it was perfect. With my finger in my mouth, I slipped my knife back, hidden in my jacket.  
I took my jacket off, letting the air hit my chest. My gray shirt let all the air pass through, my hair tickling my face. It smelled good. It was a warm scent, distant hints of vanilla and black coffee surrounded me. I felt my eyes begin to water. I was alone, the night breathed a cold sadness into my decaying mind. My body embraced it, the chill was a welcome distraction. My closed eyes let my mind wander. I let my tears run free. Everything felt so dumb. I felt so dumb. I hated feeling dumb. I sat leaning against the wall. My shoulders brushed against the rough brick. 

The groan of a floorboard under pressure sounded from my apartment. I froze, my mind went straight to a break in. It doesn’t make much sense to break in at night, but you never know. I relaxed when the familiar, floral scent of my girlfriend was carried over on a breeze. I looked up, she was already there. I didn’t have time to wipe the tears from my eyes when Jamica climbed out the window. She sat down next to me, her soft shirt brushing against mine. She looked tired. I instantly felt guilty. Had I woken her up? Was it too cold inside because the window was open? Does she hate me and will never forgive me and leave me? I looked away. She wrapped her arms around me and hummed a sleepy, quiet tune. I curled my arm around her, tucking my head under her shoulder. She was warm, I slipped my hands under her shirt for warmth. We stayed like that for a while. It only took a few minutes after that for the Nyquil to kick in. As my mind faded below me, I felt myself free falling in space. It was terrifying, the waking world snapping in and out of my conscience. As I finally lost myself, the last thing that came into focus was the sweet floral smell of Jamica’s hoodie.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gina steps in

I had slept for hours, and I had slept miserably. I turned to my side. My stomach tightened, my throat burned. I felt my eyes widen as I realized what was happening. I raced to the bathroom, emptying my stomach's contents in a few graceless lurches. I watched the orange chunky sludge slowly slurp down the toilet drain. I shuddered.   
The clock glowed an angry 5:08 am. One corner of my lip curled upward in a snarl as I kicked the wall.  
I felt pathetic. I hated being sick. I have been sick for the past couple months now. Everything sucked. Work was infuriating. I was always hungry and thirsty. Sometimes, I could swear I was drinking while peeing on the toilet. I slumped back into bed, groaning as my back protested. Jamica had gone out for a run, she always left at exactly five. I knew I had a little bit of time before I had to pretend I wasn't sick. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light.

When I finally woke again, It was one in the afternoon. The world was still foggy outside. I could feel the light but steady pressure in my skull. I got up and walked out of my bedroom. Jamica was sitting on the couch holding a cup of coffee. The news was on. Hurricane Katrina was expected to make landfall in about three days.

“Looks like somebody had a nice sleep,” she murmured.

“I’ll peel your skin off,” I trudged over to the coffee machine. 

“Love you too,” she took a sip of her coffee. The pot had barely a few tablespoons left inside. Growling in frustration, I bared my teeth to nobody in particular.

“You’re in a mood,” Jamica’s brows were furrowed.

“No I’m not,” I grumbled, my head hanging low.

“You’re such a damn child,” she chided playfully. I hadn’t even seen her get off the couch, but she slipped by me and emptied the old coffee grinds, sifting a fresh batch in.   
We stood there leaning against each other in a comfortable silence as the pot slowly filled with dark brown liquid. It was almost black in the shadow. I pulled the pot out and made myself a cup. Even though I had practically emptied the entire container of sugar inside of the cup, It still tasted bitter. I made a face, adding a bit more milk.  
“Are you okay?” Jamica leaned against the counter, her head tilted to the side. Her fire engine red hair was in a ponytail, it was a puff. Her lashes were long and red, she loved to use bright red mascara. I had noticed the color in her hair had already begun to fade, her dark roots peeking through. I would have to touch it up again soon.  
“Yeah, I’m good,” I forced a smile. I had been so busy with work, it was hard to focus on my body. I felt her eyes rake over every inch of me.  
“Somethings not right with you. What’s going on?” I shrugged.  
“I’m just tired, that's all,” I smiled.  
“Let’s watch Parent Trap,” she shuffled by me and plopped down on the couch. I pouted.  
“But you normally love Nancy Meyers,” She mimicked my facial expression. I stuck my tongue out at her. “C'mon, sit down,” she patted the cushion next to her. I sat next to her, grabbing the large, soft yellow blanket that hung on the couch's arm. Wrapping it around me, I leaned into her.  
Later that day I made an appointment with a doctor. I was due for a regular checkup anyways. I took Monday off to go. I needed to get a drug test for work as well.  
Might as well get the over with.  
I hated being touched, but I knew I had to sit still. The doctor asked me all the regular questions. I decided to take the drug test before all the body touching shit. She handed me a cup. I hated peeing in a stupid cup. I grumbled the whole way over to the bathroom and back. I handed the woman my cup when I came back out. She left with it. When the doctor came back, I almost snarled at her. I held my breath until it was all over. She kept feeling my stomach more than normal, frowning. When she finally spoke, it startled me. I didn’t let it show, keeping my eyes cold.

“Hm. That’s different. Are you sexually active? Is it possible you’re pregnant?” I froze, then shook my head.

“I’m sexually active but I have a girlfriend,” I mumbled reluctantly. I hated the doctors so much.

“Okay, if your drug test is negative you should get it within twenty four hours,” she droned on and on. When I was finally free, I hurried out of the doctors office. The appointment was on the department, which I was happy about. I had been saving for a bit now, and that helped a lot. There was this necklace I liked that I wanted to get.   
I had a rollercoaster of a childhood, and it reminded me that I wasn’t a worthless piece of shit that nobody would bother to help. 

The next day, I got my results. The doctor called. The drugs were negative, as expected. However, she continued.  
As she spoke, I felt my mind freeze over.  
No. That's not possible. It can’t be possible. I wrapped my arms around myself as the nurse on the phone hung up on me. I was frozen. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. I ran out of my apartment to the drug store, bought a test and brought it home.  
I looked down at the two blood red bars burnt into the small test window. They were right. I was pregnant. I panicked, shoving the test into the trash can.   
I ran to the window in my kitchen, hyperventilating. I went onto my fire escape and slid down against the rough brick, knotting my fingers into my scalp. My fingers were twisting my hair into a massive, anything but delicate knot against my scalp. Nothing felt real. This couldn’t be real. I took the knife from my jacket and pressed it to the palm of my hand. When a thin line of blood trickled down the callused pad on my hand and onto my arm and seeped into my leather jacket, the feeling of dread that was swirling around in my stomach plummeted. I felt nauseous. I wanted to scream and cry and die all at the same time. I sat there alone, wanting to rip out my neck. I couldn't breathe, rocking back and forth with wild eyes. I knew how I must’ve looked.  
I felt my body move. I couldn’t control it. I kicked my way down the fire escape, barely noticing the blood that trailed from my fingers and onto the dark metal. I pulled down the fire escape ladder and practically flipped down it, landing hard on the cement below. I felt my nails dig into the ground. The hardware store I lived above was closed. I walked fast towards prospect ave, heading towards the highway bridge. I found myself at the corner of the road, between Mambo Lounge and the busy highway. I quickly jumped the small spiked fence, the small alley ten feet above the highway and fenced in by a simple rusty blue barrier. I tucked myself away in the back of the open alley, the painted brick walls that were covered in graffiti and vines shielded me from view of the speeding cars. A thick, dark, rum colored steel structure filled the small space between the building and the alley. I scaled it with ease, my mind too torpid to recognize what I was doing. I hauled my aching body on top of the building, a loose pebble slipping beneath my boots. My mind snapped back into place as I heard it echo down the massive steel ladder. Each bar was as thick as my face, and the pebble eventually settled on the very edge of a horizontal bar about halfway down.  
From the birds eye view I now had, It almost looked like the skeleton of the building was protruding from its side. A deep wound that bled green vines, tall grass, and old withered roots.

I fell asleep on the empty roof. I dreamt of nothing.

When I finally built up the courage to return home the next day, I found Jamica sitting on a suitcase in the middle of the room. Her face was twisted and cold.  
“I’m done with you. You’re obsessed with work and never had time for me. I understand you have commitments, and I could forgive that, but you can’t fucking cheat on somebody. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”  
Her outburst left me speechless. I was so confused. 

“You’re a selfish bitch,” Jamica threw something small at me. It hit me square in the chest, bouncing off and clattering to the floor. I felt nauseous as I saw it was the positive pregnancy test. I was silent, quickly wiping away a stray tear.  
“Don’t you fucking cry, don‘t even speak. I’m leaving now. I don’t ever want to see or hear from you again,” Jamica’s mouth was pursed and curled, but I could see how hurt her eyes here. She pushed past me and slammed the door.  
The world was still. The kitchen window was open. The room turned cold as a chill swept through the room, the room dimmed, the shadows turned into deep iron blues. The sky that had been a listless, empty white just this morning was now a deep, ominous gray. I knew it would happen, and I knew it would happen.   
I knew the sky would blacken. I knew it would come, but I still crumpled when the clouds broke. As the rain began to beat into my apartment. I crumpled to the floor. I felt the thunder and lightning course through my arteries, pumping the torrent of rain through my veins. It began to leak out slowly. As the pressure increased, so did the steady flood that began to stream down the streets. Everything was drenched in a matter of minutes, seconds, even.

When the night was black, and the street lamps light was obscured by fog. Everything was so, so quiet. I felt thin arms wrap around me, straight, light brown hair falling in my face. I tightened my arms around myself, fear shooting through my body. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t feel. I couldn’t breathe. Oh god, I couldn’t breathe….

“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” Gina's voice was soft and steady, I felt her long fingers weave through my tangled hair.  
“Breathe, just breathe,” she sat down next to me, holding me tight as the night sky’s clouds grew thicker and thicker. My side cramped as my sobs grew weaker. I shook my head violently, whimpering.  
When the world turned lilac, and the sparrows began to sing, I was fast asleep.

A light breeze blew in the kitchen window, tickling my face. Everything was warm and cozy beneath my blanket. I shifted, feeling the textured couch cushion brush beneath my hand.

“Hey Rosa,” Gina’s face came into focus in front of me. Her blue eyes were kind, their usual mischievous twinkle was subdued. “I made you some herbal tea, Boyle told me to put maple syrup inside of it, but I told him that I wasn’t going to,” her long, arched nose crinkled a bit as her lips curled into a small, bright smile. “Then he told me to strain it in liquid dragon's blood resin.”

“Not gonna lie that sounds kinda dope,” I croaked, suppressing all emotions.

“C’mon Rosa, you just had a full on meltdown in front of me, let it out man,” Gina held her arms out. I wanted to slap her, I knew she was just trying to piss me off. It was working. I sat up and accepted the tea.  
“But really, talk to me. I promise everythings going to be fine,” Gina sat down next to me, stealing half of the warm, blue blanket.  
“You really promise?” I felt pathetic.

“No, do I look like a fucking Genie to you?” I felt my face crumble into a small smile. That's the Gina I knew. I paused, refusing to meet her eyes.

“I’m pregnant,” I forced the words out. They were strong, but hoarse. I sat there rigid. I felt the gears in her brain turn.

“You know for sure?” her words were careful, delicate. This was a Gina I wasn't too familiar with, and I don’t know how much I like it.

“Yes, um, yeah I do,” I felt defeated.

“My girlfriend found the test and broke up with me, she thinks I cheated,” I subconsciously curled my legs into my body. When I realized how sorry I looked, I straightened them out again, running a hand through my hair, trying to untangle the big knots.

“And you didn’t cheat,” Gina sipped her coffee. I felt my eyes burn.

“No,” I felt like shit.

“Oh…...oh no,” Gina was starting to put two and two together.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I wiped my face violently with my sleeve.

“Rosa, does anybody know?” I stared at Gina's coffee as it sloshed around the cup in her lap. I knew it had to be disgustingly sweet. I shook my head.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” Gina held her hand up. 

“Okay, I get it, it's totally fine. I called in to work and told them you wouldn’t be coming in today, I also said I wouldn’t be. You’re stuck with me Ro-ro. FOREVER……..” She ended with a narrow eyed grin and a mischievous smile. I saw past it though, the sadness in the crinkle of her eyes.

Suddenly, I noticed her mug. It read, GINA KNOWS BEST.

“How!?” Gina held a finger to my lips.

“Shhhh… Some questions are best left unanswered….” she smiled. Genuinely this time. I loved Gina's smile. I’d never let her know it, but I did. It was genuinely kind when she felt it. I also loved her sarcastic, ‘I won and you can’t do shit,’ smile. Gina was loud and proud.

“What are you going to do? Are you going to keep it? How far along are you?” Gina clearly had a lot of questions that I wasn’t ready to answer.

“Gina, I really don't want to talk about it. I’m confused and I hate emotions,” I spat. I realized how violent my tone was.

“I think it’s been three months, a little less,” I caved in.

“You don’t have a lot of time left to decide,” she leaned into me slowly. I wasn’t threatened, she was trying to be comforting.

“Sorry, I know you don’t want to talk about it,” she snatched the rest of the blanket and ran. I looked up, confused. Then I smelled it. Something was burning. I jumped up, ignoring the   
dizziness and whipping around to face my kitchen behind the couch. The stove was on, and Gina was turning the heat down. A pan full of black, crispy bread was sizzling on top of the metal.

“Who gives a shit about pancakes anyways, let's go get ice cream,” Gina turned to face me with a wry, apologetic smile. I grabbed my plain black leather jacket off of the small blue chair next to the couch.

“Let’s go. Also, I wanna show you something,” I slipped out the door. After making sure it was locked, I turned down the hall.

I barely noticed how quiet the neighbors have been the past few days.


End file.
